


Cantera: A Foundation Story-Part 13

by Zurrunba



Series: Cantera [13]
Category: Foundation - Isaac Asimov
Genre: Alternate Universe - SCP Foundation, Cantera, Fillia, Galactic Empire, Gen, M/M, Science Fiction, Yllul, galaxy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:54:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28362744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zurrunba/pseuds/Zurrunba
Summary: The Galactic Empire has fallen, with kings, tyrants, and other rulers scrambling to seize power in systems across the galaxy. One such ruler was the Tyrant of Fillia, who thirty years before had crushed a revolt from the King of Cantera.With the Tyrant Ysh dead and the Fillian home world in civil war, those from other parts of the empire are scrambling their resources to deal with the invasion from the neighboring empire of Yllul. Earlier, the king sent out some of his fleet to help protect the planet Fillia. While preparing to take the rest of his navy to join their counterparts, word reaches him that Yllul has taken a large fleet to attack the planet Duran; a planet in a system next to that of Cantera. If it should, fall Cantera would be cut off from his fleet and nearly helpless against the fate Yllul had in store for them.
Series: Cantera [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605262
Kudos: 1





	Cantera: A Foundation Story-Part 13

Following Thelia’s movements was no easy task, when it came down to it. At least they knew where she’d end up. Those given the assignment were stationed in many places along the path between the warehouse and the merchant hotel and were perfectly blended in as the homeless, security guards, or regular people walking through the street. If she continued her normal actions, they’d be able get someone in to confront her. Her motives were still unclear. After all, what kind of spy left obvious clues to what she was up to. Just not enough for the king’s people to know what it might all mean.

Counselor Oris, her husband, was still missing. One might connect the two, if his disappearance hadn’t happened long after Thelia had been conducting her activities. The king himself was off the planet, but even if he weren’t, he’d never risk sneaking in there in disguise to speak to her (unlike the queen). Someone else would have to go in there. 

“It’s too bad Moira isn’t available. Despite her high profile she always seems to be able to get in and out of places unseen.”

Counselor Tical’s comments lay in the air for a few moments as Counselor Grij scanned through the video images of the warehouse Thelia had been residing in.

“Sadly, she left the planet to who knows where,” the defense minister replied. “At least we have some idea where she might be going. I just hope she gets back before the populous finds out; especially since she’s known to be pregnant with the king’s heir. But let’s focus on what we have. Provided we do send someone in there, who is available that we trust can do the job?”

His insistence on keeping his eyes focused on those cameras in the warehouse was baffling. There were plenty of people in his security service around who could watch for Thelia’s return. His eyes had been glued to that screen, with the occasional short interval giving orders to his underlings, for at least 24 hours. He and Alan Oris had been close friends; the actions of Alan’s wife were therefore extra troubling.

“Who would you recommend we send, then?” Tical asked.

“I have someone in mind. I just have to make sure he’s available. It needs to be someone that she trusts or she won’t tell the contact what she knows.”

With all the chaos and betrayals happening who would be worthy of trust with her? Having been a counselor for only a few months Tical knew he couldn’t judge what the others were doing. Not until he got a better grasp of politics at this level. Iar had sheltered him a lot more than he realized when working with planet trade and agriculture. He’d leave the actions to be taken in the hands of the military/security leaders.

With the king off fighting in the Fillian system there would be a lot more things for him to worry about. There would be no one really to report to, unless he wanted to send an insecure message to the king across half the territory of the Fillian Empire. Turning back to the console he saw Grij still focused on the monitors. 

He was about to leave the room when someone in a captain’s uniform came running in. The look on her face stopped him in his tracks. If he wasn’t mistaken her name was Captain Tya, and she was from orbital Station One. For some reason she’d remained on the planet as an intermediary between Station One and Cantera. It took longer than one might expect for Grij to take his eyes from the monitor. The two spoke in hushed tones for a minute. The expression on his face changed from irritation to alarm. Calling to one of his subordinates to take over monitoring the warehouse, he started issuing orders Tical couldn’t quite make out. All those addressed hurried off to take of positions at different consoles or out of the room.

When there was no explanation coming from Grij, Tical demanded, “What’s going on, Grij?”

“An Yllulian fleet is attacking Duran.”

“Duran? Are you sure?”

“It’s been confirmed through orbital command and strategic analytics.”

Now what was he to do? If the Duran system fell into the hands of Yllul Cantera would be cut off from the majority of their navy. How many ships remained at Cantera that could be sent to defend it? And what kind of defenses had the king put in place when he’d seized power there? Before the invasion the king hadn’t much time to do anything to strengthen its defenses. 

“Does the king know?” he asked.

“Yes, he’s on his way, but won’t be here for a day or so. Duran, and Cantera for that matter, are on their own until then.”

So much for settling things on the Fillian side of the empire.  
_________________________

Word of an intruder to the palace from outside reached General Greelin while he was inspecting his troops along one of his defensive lines, or at least that’s what they called it. This was turning into the strangest battlefield imaginable. People had made their way into the palace one way or another ever since the fighting began, but those entrances had been monitored and watched to see where they’d go. Some of them had ended up joining one faction or another. Some of them, suspected of possibly joining the ‘wrong side’ were taken out by those in the faction that controlled the entrance at the time. This entrant was different. Nobody caught sight of him or her and nobody was able to follow the person’s trail. Somehow, a stranger came in that couldn’t be assessed. 

What was noticed was that soon after this stranger came into the palace and vanished, the borders of Greelin’s territory became more active. It was activity so chaotic that his observers couldn’t read the tempo of what the other groups were doing. Had this stranger upset the stability of the two factions, maybe getting them to fight each other again? It was possible, but it was also something he should assume. He shouldn’t lower his guard simply because he thought things were shifting away from him. If an opportunity presented itself, though, he would take advantage of it. 

Hurrying to his base of operations in one of the former kitchen areas (what was called a kitchen here would qualify as a luxurious room by outside standards), he started giving orders to move some people around; especially in the areas with larger activity, then he’d see which enemy sections would be the best to attack. With these actions in progress, his focus was in the wrong direction. The first attack came from above.

In most parts of the palace the height of the roof sections were the same. It was the number of levels that were different. They could be anything from the singular levels in the areas like the gardens that had the really high domes, to the ten floor parts where office buildings and employee residences were mostly found. With these things in mind each group had their own people up watching for trouble on all levels. At least to level six that was known at the top of one section. Something that General Greelin hadn’t thought of was the one spot in the palace above the rebel tyrant’s location that was pointed out by that someone who’d snuck in two days before. That someone had been to the palace many times and was familiar with its design, courtesy of several maintenance workers who were happy to speak with someone interested in what they had to say. That level seven hadn’t been used in decades, but it was still there.

Greelin’s people on level six were surprised and quickly silenced before they could raise an alarm. The soldiers loyal to General Firon (Tyrant Ysh’s successor) swept into the area and seized control on the sixth and fifth floors before Greelin realized what was happening. In panic he scrambled as many forces as he could to stop him from reaching level four, but was too late, and battle ensued. At that point the republican forces loyal to Saldor Mesh (a former minister on Fillia) struck across the line through a passage on the first-floor unknown to any faction until that point. Large sections of the palace here immediately fell. 

“What’s happening?” Greelin demanded of anyone in hearing range. “How did these soldiers get behind our lines?”  
“I don’t know, sir,” one of the technicians nearby replied. “They just seem to have come out of nowhere.” Frantically the man kept searching through every available camera, sensor, and other system that could conceivably be used to find the answer.

“It looks like one of them came out of some ceiling section in Beta Sector on the sixth floor. From how things look there is some level to the palace up there that we hadn’t known about. The attack on level one in Gamma Sector came through some kind of passage through a wall not far from where the republican lines are.”

Of course, nobody then knew why the sectors had those names. They were just names that had been passed on for thousands of years. They were so entrenched that nobody really bothered to learn where they came from. 

“How can we not know about these places and the enemy does?”

As soon as he asked it, Greelin already knew the answer. The stranger who snuck into the palace knew and passed it on to his enemies. How did that person convince Firon’s people and the republicans to work together? That had to be the strangest alliance since they’re viewpoints were so opposed to each other. So, who was the stranger?

Fighting continued on for the rest of that day. After the initial shock and the loss of over half of the territory he held, defensive positions were arranged and held. He was down to the bone, but he’d go down fighting. These fools would have to lose a lot more before he went down; and they’d lost a lot already. After a while, he hadn’t been paying attention how long, the assault stopped. 

His soldiers stood by their posts, some sections had scorched walls and corners missing due to blaster weapons. With how this palace was built, it took a lot of such fire to do real damage to the structure. It required stronger weapons, like the plasma weapons that were rare. No one in the palace had such things. It showed how much fire must’ve hit that area in the fight. It took thirty minutes of silence in their current positions before they started to relax and survey their surroundings. 

On this floor the losses were devastating. On the sixth, fifth, fourth, and this floor his losses had been more than all the fighting the previous month combined. Who was this person, and how could he be dealt with? Only by taking out this stranger would he have any hope of salvaging anything. If the right cards could be played, there was a chance he could bring in reinforcements from outside. He’d managed to make contact with some of his people through back channels. It would take some lightning moves at the right time to make it happen.

But first this had to be cleaned up. He couldn’t tell how badly the enemies were hurt. That would have to be determined before enacting his plan. Giving orders to everyone he saw, he walked around to each of the outposts that he just set up. Despite the loss of numbers, he felt that there were enough to hold this position until he sent out his messages. 

On his way to the last outpost, coincidentally the one closest to the nearest exit to the outside, there was some kind of activity. Fifty of his soldiers stood there, watching this corner that was a kind of intersection between several other corridors. They’d slowly moved themselves forward in two places, apparently places vacated by the republicans. Here they stopped. 

Several bodies of their own people lay on the floor in the distance. Debris lay all around. No one had bothered to clean this up or clear the area. These republicans had attacked in this spot and then retreated. Otherwise, there’d be soldiers of the republicans lying with the general’s own fighters. 

Addressing the nearest he said, “Sergeant, what’s going on here?”

“We were searching these corridors after the fighting and came across our people down there,” the soldier began. “We’ve been slowly moving to see if we can reach our dead and bring them back.”

Retrieve their dead. That may sound like a noble thing to do, but at present it wasn’t the best idea either. Not when he needed everyone he could get to connect with those outside. He was about to call out to pull them back when he heard something above. He just had enough time to look up when an opening in the ceiling occurred and dozens of soldiers landed behind them. The next thing he knew he was hit by two blaster shots before he fell to the ground.  
_________________________

The surprise attacks from all angles on General Greelin’s lines succeeded in decimating every position the rebel held. It was only halted because the general had backed himself into a secure location that would be nearly impossible to take without worse losses than any of them had suffered before. He had to be lured out.

Accomplishing that had been easier than expected, but Moira was certain that her plan would work. Someone like Greelin always had their routines once it’s determined that fighting has ceased. The best place to work it would be at or near the end of his designated inspection routes. When he started his inspection Moira and General Vino knew where to move.

The units coming through the ceiling onto the first floor made short work of their opposition. Being hit from above and behind at once hadn’t been considered possible (despite previous such attacks already taken place). All were killed except for Greelin and two other soldiers who were able to surrender before it was too late. Other units came down from the second floor behind the lines and engaged other parts of the rebel tyrant’s people. With that many openings the rest of the lines went as well. The fighting in the palace was as good as done. There would still be a little fighting on the second and third floors. That would be over in a day or so.

General Greelin’s unconscious body was taken from where it fell to a secluded room where General Vino, General Firon, Saldor Mesh, and Moira Tilliar waited. The four didn’t sit very close together (they still had their personal distrusts for each other), but their determination couldn’t be denied. While the other three had their guards nearby, eyeing the rest of the group for any sign of trouble, Moira sat back calmly in her seat without attendants. Her hands laying on her extended stomach. She was clearly pregnant. 

The group was in discussion when a moan came from Greelin’s mouth. Slowly his eyes opened and took stock of the surroundings. A moment later he quickly sat up before falling backward with clear pain from his wounds.

“Sorry about the pain, general,” Moira said. “The medicine and pain killers I was able to bring hasn’t had time to take effect.”

It took a minute before the man could get his act together and slowly sit back up where he was on the floor. No one had spoken since Moira had, clearly waiting for him to say something.

Vino wasn’t sure what the purpose for this was. They’d finally taken Greelin out of the picture and possibly solved the civil conflict, for now. For some reason both Mesh and Firon had agreed to this little chat rather than just removing the man from the equation.

“What’s all this?” Greelin demanded. “How did you get behind my forces?”

“That should be obvious, general,” Moira said. “I know the layout of your palace better than you or any of your counterparts do. My father and quite a few others of my associates have been in and out of this place many times over the years. One little artifact we have is a schematic of the whole complex.”

“Apparently a lot of little unused sections have been overlooked for years,” said Mesh. “Too bad we didn’t have access to this map months ago,” Mesh said, “but we must accept what we can get.”

The smile on Moira’s face irked Vino. What was that woman trying to do? There had to be something else up her sleeve, but Vino had to face what was happening now. 

“So, what do you want?” Greelin asked.

“What I want is to read the expression on your face,” Moira said. “And the access code to storage locker 12, but that can wait. I’ll let these other two speak their piece.”

“I’m not telling you anything!” was the response before any of the others could ask any questions. 

“You always were a pompous fool,” Firon said in response. “I never did understand why Ysh kept you in your post.” The stare was like daggers at the defeated general. “Do you know why Ysh scribbled my name on the official documents as his successor if anything happened?” When there was no response he continued, “Partly because of my father’s loyalty, but also because he knew I didn’t want it. Unlike the other generals he had in command.” 

When he made this last remark, his eyes locked with Vino’s before turning back to Greelin. She had to fight hard to keep the embarrassment from her face. Many on Fillia had known of her ambitions, but she’d put those aside years ago when she’d seen the terror and hatred that those with such ambitions brought to others. Firon, of course, would have his doubts. 

“I do not trust anyone in this room,” he continued, “but when Cantera’s queen here came in to discussion possible outcomes I agreed that things here had to be resolved. A truce with you would’ve been impossible, but with Mesh I knew I had someone I could negotiate with. Now what needs to be determined is what’s to be done with you. You have some knowledge that we desire, otherwise you’d be dead already. I’m willing to spare your life and let you live out the rest of your days on a distant planet if you give us what we need.”

The defiance was clear on Greelin’s face. When Vino saw him glance over to Moira for a second before looking back at Firon, she saw a slight alteration in the man’s expression; still defiance, but something else. Had there been some kind of communication between him and the queen of Cantera?

Silence continued for another twenty seconds or so. Greelin then looked back at Moira for a longer glance.

Blaster in hand, Vino came to her feet, pointed, and fired. Greelin slumped back to the floor, dead.  
____________________________________

The Canteran fleet under the king’s command encountered something unexpected on its way to Duran; a fleet of fifteen ships in the system they used to bounce off of. Having moved his forces through the Rhyon system to prepare for his move to Fillia, there had been much preparation as to where in the system he’d move his ships. There was no time for such calculations when moving toward Duran. They’d have to bounce from another system to be sure to have everyone with them when joining the fight. Somehow Yllul had guessed which system he’d use on their way to defend his realm.

The king’s fleet was much larger and his ships better caliber, but the positions the enemy held were in the way of where the Canteran fleet needed to go. The enemy ships were also in good defensive positions to receive them. This would be a test of just how much better the king’s ships and captains were. 

“Captain Gyer,” the king said to the man in control of his flag ship. “How well is this area of their defended? Are we only dealing with ships?”

“From what I can see, Your Grace, they are only ships. They are sitting in defensive positions to prepare for an attack. I doubt there’s any plan for them to try and attack us.”

Yes, that would be suicide. In fact, this defensive hold was likely suicide as well, but at least they could do a lot of damage, and slow his forces down. The enemy was planning on keeping him from Duran long enough for the planet to fall. 

“Do you have any suggestions?” he asked the captain.

“Nothing other than taking out two of their weaker positions so we can speed through the system to our jumping point,” was the reply. “Trying to navigate to some other system to shoot for Duran would take even longer.”

No good choices. First, they had to abandon Commander Urkish at Fillia, and now this.

“Choose the positions that you feel can be handled the quickest and strike. If we only have to deal with two positions our losses should be minimal and we may only lose a couple hours.”  
______________________________

Duran was hit with a force unimaginable to the planet’s defenders. They’d never seen so many ships in their system; at least not to anyone’s knowledge. This section of the old Galactic Empire had not been known for warfare. It had fallen rather quickly to the rulers of Trantor when the day came. 

When the government had been toppled by the machinations of Hiero and his people the governor had been replaced by someone the king knew he could trust. A man who had fought alongside the king during the revolt against Fillia thirty years before. When word came to him from Counselor Grij of the impending Yllul attack he scrambled what he could and sent a message out to the king. There wasn’t much for him to scramble. This system hadn’t been considered a likely spot for confrontations; not unless things went really bad elsewhere. He had eight of the modern class Canteran ships along with a few relics. This to hold out against at least forty-five of the best the enemy had. Grij had promised to get some more sent his way, but even then Cantera herself could only send ten more at most. 

The planet itself would have to hold the majority of the ships near its orbit. There they had defensive shields that could hold off attack for a time. There were some military installations on two of its natural satellites that could be used to fight back against the ships. One of the gas giants in the system had a monitoring station they could use to keep a close eye on things in the outer system. It wouldn’t likely be detected by the invaders. Other than that, one of the planets just past Duran had a defensive base, but it had been damaged during some skirmishes that happened a couple years before during an attempted coup and would be of no use. Not promising. 

The attacking fleet ignored everything it encountered once entering the system and headed straight for Duran. (After all, why waste time with insignificant things when the end result is to take this planet and then jump for Cantera)? The weapons from the planet’s moons began their firing as soon as the attackers were in range. There was only the occasional hit. The ships largely kept some distance as its commander waited until he had the planet surrounded. They wanted to leave nothing to chance.

This wasn’t good for the defenders of Duran. Once this was closed off and communications jammed, their fate was sealed unless someone came to their rescue. The king’s last communication had told them that he’d be there the day before, but he hadn’t arrived. That set off all kinds of alarm not only for Duran, but for Cantera herself. Were they to fight this hopeless battle to just have the enemy fly their way to the great planet?

Resist.

That was all they could do. Resist.

Decades before Duran had been ravaged when the Fillian tyrant had defeated the Canteran Coastal Fleet (as that half of the fleet was called) and headed straight for the planet Cantera for the final showdown. Cantera had fallen, but two Fillian fleets had been defeated before the Sylliac Fleet (at that time the strongest of them) finally broke through the defenses and captured the planet. 

Resist.

The first wave hit them hard, but the defenders were ready with what they had. This first wave of attackers was twelve strong and headed for the lunar weapons. Five more swooped in from another angle and engaged the Canteran vessels that were supporting the defenses. The ships couldn’t deal with both attacking forces at once. They could only hope that the lunar cannons could deal with the ships coming their way while the ships turned to face those headed for the planet. Normally both could be handled from the moons, but there were still some shield generators that, if destroyed, would crack wide open, could bring a quick end to its defense. For this reason, the people of Duran would prefer to have a larger fleet guarding the system. 

Resist.

With the fighting going on, no one noticed the ten vessels that appeared in the system after the second attacking ship was taken out and the rest slowly pulled back. These ships didn’t engage for either side. They kept their presence a secret as its members scanned the situation at hand. These ships didn’t normally engage in fighting. They were trade vessels of the Tilliar family. They were only ten, so engaging without the right circumstances wouldn’t help anything. Besides, in the battle taking place their eyes were watching for the coming of the king’s forces.

Six hours after the last attack on Duran, Yllul came at them again. This time with everything they had from all sides. Duran was doomed.

Resist.

The ten trading vessels sat, wondering what to do. If they engaged, it would slow down Duran’s fall, but couldn’t prevent it. Neither Moira or her father had told them to engage. If they died would it harm the plans of their superiors?

Three hours turned to four, then five, then six. The planet and the ships defending it were fighting harder than any could imagine. Three more attacking vessel were out of action, but two Canteran vessels were also destroyed. One by one the cannons on the moons were taken out. Only the ships that remained in orbit were fighting, being half what they were the day before.

Something else appeared in the system. The trade vessels had been watching for any sign of the Canteran vessels under the king’s command, but what appeared shocked them all. It was the Sylliac Fleet. The last time the Sylliac Fleet had entered the arena where Canteran vessels were involved they were on opposite sides of the conflict. This fleet engaged the Yllulians. 

Forty vessels closed in on the fight around Duran to strike at the invaders. Taken by surprise, the Yllul ships started adjusting their positions for this new unexpected attack. The ships of the Sylliac Fleet were much older than those of Yllul or Cantera. In fact, much of their existing vessels were of the same class as the Boarder Fleet that had been decimated not long before, but they’d taken the enemy by surprise. Many of the ships were taken out before things could be reshuffled. Then a new battle ensued. The outcome of which was far from certain.

The Tilliar ships quickly messaged their masters at home and in the Fillia system. Something this bizarre had to be reported.  
______________________________

When Hiero’s fleet made it to Duran the battle he witnessed was so strange that he wasn’t sure what to do. The sight of both Yllul’s ships and those of the Sylliac Fleet first made him wonder if Duran was under attack from two enemies (but somehow was still resisting). After ten minutes of observation on their moving through the system the facts at the scene became clear. The king with his ships engaged.

“Captain, can you determine which of these is their flag ship?” the king asked.

“It appears to be in this cluster around this moon,” was the response. 

Ten or twelve ships were assembled in a strange orbit around the moon the locals called Fire Break. The story behind that name was strange, especially since there were several contrasting stories about it.  
“Hail the commander of the Sylliac Fleet,” the king said next. “We’ll have to coordinate if we don’t want any accidents.”

And he wanted to know why the Sylliac was suddenly out here. Granted, Duran and Cantera were part of the empire, but he figured they’d wait till the Canteran forces were depleted before sending forces in to clean things up. But then why send the Sylliac?

Thirty seconds later the image of a man he’d never met before came on. 

“Your Highness,” the man said upon seeing Hiero. “It’s good to see you well. I heard there was a little resistance on your way here. For that reason, your wife suggested the empire’s nearest fleet get to Duran system. General Firon decided we were the only fleet that could get here in time to help.”

“I see,” he responded, though what he saw was really confusing. He had been right to suspect Moira’s traveling to Fillia. What was the most shocking, even if understandable in the end, was how quickly Moira managed to bring an end to the fighting on Fillia. What kind of arguments, or deals, did she arrange to make that happen? “Is the queen still on Fillia?”

“Yes, your Grace. She says she’ll be waiting there until you’re ready to come and pick her up. All sides agree that on Fillia itself is the best place for all remaining parties to come and broker a final settlement.”

A final settlement. He didn’t like the sound of that at all, but with her on Fillia there wasn’t much he could do until the fighting ended at least in the Duran and Fillian systems. 

“Okay, then. Let us end the trouble in this system, then we can discuss what any other strategies will be.”

Agreeing to that, the two quickly exchanged their information. Then the king gave the final order to his ships.  
________________________________

The chaos on Gondor one might say was unprecedented. One moment things were working the way they always had over the past hundred years; then the explosions rocked one of the stations and an aristocrat’s secure palace on the planet. The places were swarmed with people investigating. Before any got to the house of Councilman Urant, many people already suspected some of what happened. It had reached people in many circles that, despite discouragement from many of the great houses on Gondor, he had been peddling some powers he possessed with Yllul.

Indeed, a few high-ranking individuals of Yllul had been visiting the house at the time of the explosion. The hardest thing to discover was the identity of the last one known to come to the house before the explosion. The name on the register of the ship the man came from was Mr. Androff, with no first name given. From the other evidence found this was clearly an alias. He’d been brought to Gondor on a trade vessel, but beyond that there was some uncertainty. Supposedly it was a vessel belonging to the Tilliar house of Cantera, but everyone knew that you couldn’t always trust what the registry says.

The other passengers on this Tilliar vessel were all dead or missing. Missing could simply mean that the explosion had vaporized the bodies. More detailed DNA analysis surrounding the site would be required to be sure. What the investigators and their superiors had no doubt was that it had something to do with Yllul and the Fillian Empire. The last thing any wanted was to be dragged into the war. 

Word was broadcast across the planet that all business and trade activities with Yllul and persons on Gondor would cease until further notice. The same would be the case for Fillia. If members of the Tilliar trade union wished to discuss easing of these restrictions, they’d have to send someone to plead their case.  
__________________________

When the battle in the Duran system ended, it was to no one’s surprise that the combined forces of the Canteran and Sylliac Fleets were victorious. As happy as they were of the defeat of their enemy, twenty-three Yllul vessels managed to escape in an unknown direction. Hiero was pretty sure he knew where they were headed. The only hope they had would be to meet up with their comrades in the Fillia system. Which meant that his ships and the Sylliac would have to take a jump there once they were sure things were resolved here and free of future dangers. 

“Captain, what are the other searchers reporting?” the king asked.

“There’s no sign of any enemy presence in the system. Both ours and the Sylliac Fleet’s searches confirm it.”

The king nodded. The sweep of the system was complete. He had some concern about what remained of the ships he’d had to push through on his way to the Duran system. Likely they’d meet up with their counterparts around Fillia like the others to create the strongest force possible. How they knew which system to catch him at was a mystery. Sadly, it could be a mystery that would never be resolved. Another traitor in their midst? Perhaps, there was just so many things that kept getting in his way. Once Yllul could be dealt with there would need to be another deep sweep among the various agencies and services across Cantera and the other planets under his control.

“Signal the others,” he said. “Let them know once we can be back in formation, we will head straight for the Fillia system.”

And once he got to Fillia he’d hunt Moira down to have a talk with her. She’d taken so many risks and done so many things behind his back he would have to either reason with her or curtail her access to the resources she’d been using. It was all made more clear when news of the events on Gondor had slowly trickled their way to Cantera and then were passed on to him. Not much was known, but it had to be something substantial for the magnates on Gondor to send a message saying that trade between Gondor and the member planets of the Fillian Empire would be restricted for the time being. 

Then there was Tempus. He was tempted to throw out the Foundation’s unofficial diplomat to Cantera after pulling the stunt he did bringing the queen to Fillia. The problem was he didn’t want to sever relations with Terminus, nor did he welcome the notion of someone he didn’t know coming to take over that position. 

This and many other problems and potential problems raced through his mind on the way to Fillia. The Canteran Fleet under the king’s command had lost eight ships in the battle at Duran, while most of those guarding the planet during the initial enemy attack were destroyed. That meant he had to leave more of his ships behind on Duran to guard the path to Cantera. The Sylliac Fleet lost many more. The shock of seeing that fleet appear in the Duran system to fight the invaders was unexpected partly because the ships themselves were out matched by what Yllul had fighting against them. He was grateful that they’d been there to defend the planet until he got there, but the Sylliac lost over half its ships in the fighting. 

The Sylliac and Cantera vessels would be joining up with the other Canteran ships, as well as the Sylliac, Sargon, and Border Fleets. If the Tyre Fleet should find its way there then the entire force of the Fillian Empire, at least what was left of it, would be together to plan a next move. He hated to admit it, but once Yllul was driven out of the empire, Firon, or whoever was in charge, might insist on them taking the war to the enemy; and a part of him felt an urge to do just that. But what would happen on his home world itself with him gone so long?

Reaching the Fillia system he encountered a lot more than he expected. Fighting was taking place all across the system. Pockets here and there, attacks on the various formations that made up each of the fleets and the ships that Yllul had brought. There were much more than he expected. There was no sign of any ships that made up the Border Fleet. They were supposed to be guarding the planet’s immediate surroundings. The Sylliac Fleet was forced to make several evasive maneuvers or find its fate as that of the Border Fleet. The Sargon and Canteran ships looked to be the ones holding things the best. The Tyre Fleet, that no one had seen or communicated with till now, had joined the fray in an attempt to watch the planet itself. 

Quickly the king made an attempt to move his ships in the direction to join up with the rest of the Canteran vessels. They’d been hammered, but were holding their own fairly well. As he attempted to move closer several of Yllul’s navy moved to block his advance. Where they were in the system would require him to move a great distance to swoop back to where the rest of his ships were. He had little doubt that they would move to cut him off again.

This was insane. Yllul must’ve brought every single ship they could spare on this final attempt to take the Fillians out, or at least to destroy everything it could on this planet. If the Canteran and other Fillian fleets couldn’t deal with this with their fleets largely intact, Yllul could feasibly seize many planets on the border of the empire and there’d be nothing the defenders could do about it. It wouldn’t destroy the empire, but it would weaken it considerably and from what he knew the enemy could rebuild their navy a lot faster.

Hiero attempted to contact commander Urkish. He had to find out why he hadn’t been appraised of the situation in the Fillia system. What he got was dead air before the communication wave lost connection. That could only mean one thing. The commander’s ship was gone. Stunned, he stared at the screen for a moment, trying to think. After a moment he decided to connect with one of the other ships whose captain he personally knew. At least he was able to answer the call.

“Your Grace, we’re glad to see you here.”

“Sorry we didn’t get here sooner. I’d like you to connect me in with the rest of your ships still able to fight. We need to make a coordinated attack on this line here.” Saying this he sent the coordinates. “I’ll make the announcement that you are in command of your section of the fleet. Once connected we’ll see what we can do with the other fleets.”

All the king’s ships converged on that point and struck the enemy forces that stood in their way. This attack broke through the enemy lines there and all the Canteran vessels were now together. What to do now. The Sylliac fleet, what was left of it, was out of the equation. Those ships weren’t made for this kind of fighting. The Sargon was taking a heavy blow, but were still fighting. He would need to convince the commander of the Tyre to move in unison with him and the Sargon, or their losses would be devastating.

It took a good deal of convincing by the commander of the Sargon Fleet, but the Tyre finally moved from its location to form around the king’s plan. They then made their move, striking along the battle lines. This had been more difficult than it should be. Firon seemed to not be orchestrating things here. Maybe he had too much on his plate right now. The sad thing was that each of these fleets had a kind of independent will of their own which Yllul had taken advantage of. The one thing they hadn’t counted on was just how many ships Cantera was able to bring. When it came time to talk with the factions on the planet that would be brought up in the discussions.

Gradually, the king’s plan worked. As with the fighting on Duran, the enemy fleet’s command ship had been located in the middle of one of its stronger formations. The king arranged part of his ships to move in a direction that forced the enemy to compensate by moving as well, leaving this section to have a weaker flank. That’s when he gave the order to push the rest of his ships straight at that weakened point. Seeing the opening the Tyre moved their ships in as well to add fire. The process to a while, but finally the flank collapsed. When the command vessel was taken out the rest of the Yllul formation fell into disarray. At that point the battle was all but over, even if it would take the rest of that day and into the next to hunt down and destroy every enemy ship in the system.  
__________________________

With his part done, the king moved his command vessel and about half of his ships into regular orbit around Fillia. This war with Yllul was worse than he could’ve imagined with the losses he’d suffered. He wasn’t surprised when things started creeping into his mind once the excitement of the moment calmed down. Names of so many people he knew who had died through it all came to his mind; both with the fighting with Yllul, but also all the back stabbing and intrigue involved with attempts on his and Moira’s life. Not to mention the betrayals of Tonya and Eileen. The idea of another possible war to break out with Cantera’s fight for independence wasn’t a pleasant one. The other possibility would be to negotiate one with the strong hand he had now.

He needed to talk with Moira. 

Going into his room to get some privacy with the call, he activated the console to prepare the system when he noticed a personal message to him from someone on the planet. Someone other than Moira. It was a woman dressed in the uniform of a general who’s face looked familiar, asking him to speak with her immediately upon receiving it. He thought about just brushing it off for now. He needed to talk with his wife. The two of them could speak when he came to the planet the following day. Then he saw the expression on her face and decided that this might be urgent. Finally, he decided to contact her, making sure that this was a secure line.

“Your Grace, my name is General Vino,” the woman said. “I believe we’ve met a few times at a couple events hosted by the late Tyrant Ysh.”

“Yes, I do recall seeing you before,” was his reply. “What can I do for you? Is this some kind of diplomatic greeting? I don’t recall your name as an official representative of any of the factions on Fillia.”

Smiling, she responded, “That depends on how you define the word ‘official’. I’m the personal advisor to Saldor Mesh, who heads one of the two remaining factions on Fillia.”

One of the two, meaning the third was no longer a factor. Since Firon was clearly alive and well and calling some shots, it seemed that there had been no quarter given to the faction of the opposing tyrant.

“What can I do for you general?”

The smile on Vino’s face vanished, replace by a look of uncertainty. “First, your Grace, could I ask you a question?” After the king’s nod she continued, “Were you aware of your wife’s intention to come to Fillia?”

That wasn’t an easy question to answer. He knew that she’d wanted to go there at some point, but he couldn’t say her appearance there at that time was what he wanted.

Something in Hiero’s expression must’ve answer the question. “I didn’t think so. The Tilliars have a tendency to act in unexpected ways on a whim. Strangely, her appearance here is what managed to bring an end to the fighting. She and her father were always good at persuasion.”

That was an understatement. “Get to the point, general. I have to make my preparations.”

Taking a deep breath, she quickly explained events that had taken place in the room where she, Mesh, and Firon brought General Greelin to be interrogated. She mentioned the things that were said, emphasizing what Moira had done with the few words she’d interposed; and then her own final actions.

Surprised, he said, “You shot Greelin in front of everyone there, and they didn’t at least throw you out of the palace?”

“Mesh has reason to trust my judgement, your Grace. And to be honest I think Firon knew they wouldn’t get much out of the man; at least not Mesh or Firon. Your wife is another matter.”

“Again, you keep disparaging the queen. What’s your point?”

“I’ve known Moira and her father a long time, your Grace. At least as well as anyone can know those who trade in secrets as well as merchandise. They’ve toppled trading houses in unexpected ways on their way to the top. There’s something going on that I think you might not approve of.”

“And you have proof? Do you know what it might be?”

The look on her face showed some distresse again. “I know you have good reason not to trust many on Fillia, just as we always suspect your intentions to try to break away from the empire. To be honest I’m still convinced that may be your end goal, even if I don’t think you had anything to do with bringing Yllul down on us.”

Keeping his expression as impassive as he could, the memory of Tonya’s actions came through. Hiero had nothing to do with it, but forces within his government certainly had.

“I’ll have to talk with Firon about what might be behind the safety shields,” she continued, “but it can’t be something we want in the wrong hands. Just be careful; and I’d keep a closer eye on her and her father for a while.”

After that something caught her attention and she signed out. The king continued to stare at the screen. What was that all about? There was bad blood between her and Moira. No doubt about that. But something she said had struck something in the back of his mind. Shaking his head, he activated the comm to talk with Moira.  
________________________

They had to act. There was no other option at this point. Thelia’s signal made it clear that she was being forced to do something that could possibly harm the king’s life. All the videos and observations of the counselor’s wife indicated that the final climax would be the following day. Finding just the right moment they swept in to grab her before she could get to her hiding place at the warehouse. Now if they could only find where her husband was.

Thelia sat in a chair with her head bowed. She’d been crying for a time, but that stopped suddenly and the expression on her face was unreadable. Standing on the other side of a one-way mirror stood Counselors Tical and Grij, who were flanked by a couple security guards. 

“Are you ready?” asked Grij.

“As ready as I can be,” replied Tical. “We need answers now if we want to stop whatever’s going to happen.”

She looked up as the two counselors walked in. Seeing who they were she immediately sat up. Her expression now was a mixture of several things. Hope, sadness, fear, and who knew how many others one could read into it. As they came and sat down at the table, she remained silent, expecting them to speak first. So be it.

“Thelia, what have you done?” demanded Grij.

Silence. She continued looking at them and away.

“Thelia, you’ve been sending us cryptic clues of something about to happen; something terrible. What is it?”

She started shaking. It looked like she might start to cry again, but held it in. 

Then, on a whim, Tical asked, “Where’s your husband?”

Taking a deep breath, she said, “Hidden, in a hospital. He tried to stop them.”

“Them?” Grij asked. “Who is ‘them’?”

Reaching into a pocket in her dress, she pulled out a small coin shaped item, like a token. Sometimes major houses on Cantera handed them out to indicate their involvement in things like trade deals or diplomatic missions. 

When Grij looked at it the blood drained from his face. He immediately jumped to his feet and yelled to the guards on the other side of the glass. “Get ahold of the king. I need to speak to him now. Say what you have to to get through Fillia’s screeners.” 

When he put the coin on the table, Tical saw the emblem on it. Just when they thought the king was in the clear.

Here end Part 13 of "Cantera: A Foundation Story


End file.
